If There's A Will
by Angleico3156789
Summary: Done for LiveJournal Prompt: - It isn't right, because he's not here anymore. But this will have to suffice. Because she cannot live a moment without him, and she will find a way to never do just that. T for swearing. A/A


A/N: So this was done for a prompt for suprockstar in inception_kink at LiveJournal. I really need to learn how to control myself.

Prompt: It isn't right, because he's not here anymore. But this will have to suffice. Because she cannot live a moment without him, and she will find a way to never do just that.

So I hope you enjoy

* * *

It's been a while since he came home. There was no way to explain how he left; he left of his own accord. She didn't try to talk him out of it or into it. She didn't beg him to stay and she didn't cry. No, she didn't do that because she's not weak (or at least she won't admit it). But she still gives in to this temptation. She couldn't understand the temptation; she couldn't try to understand it.

There was an inexplicable way how the cool needle digs into her skin that was soothing and sent shivers down her spine. Her mother always said, "If there's a will, there's a way." Just like those annoying little, children prairie books. This was the best way she had and she had a strong will.

When he disappeared, she thought she could handle it. Apparently not. She had been stuck on him for a while now, and she took everything for granted. No, she took him for granted. She always knew he would leave someday. He just wasn't one to stay in one place for too long. With her, it had been too long.

She understands but it didn't mean she accepts it. So when she started playing with the PASIV, there wasn't anyone to stop her. Every time, the dream was different. They were in different places, during different times and doing different things, but there was always a constant. He'd always appear. That's what she relished about going under. The pure creation had lost its sparkle but he was always down there, which meant she would be there as well.

Even though he was down there, didn't mean he would talk to her. Not all the dreams were pleasant. Once she dreamed that Arthur had a family. She watched as the seemingly perfect Arthur, would pick up his seemingly perfect clone of a son or the seemingly perfect wife would kiss him. She watched from the bench in the park. She felt like an intruder of her own subconscious and she couldn't take it anymore. She then proceeded to hang herself by the chain of the swing.

Just before she lost consciousness, she thought she saw the cold Arthur stare her way. She had woken up with a gasp and her hand had reached for her totem. Then she managed to get a grip of herself. Perhaps it was a morbid way to die, to be hung, but she had been used to the physical pain. But she still remembers that hint of pain and that soreness around her neck.

She trains herself not to cry when she wakes up. Tears were a sign of weakness and she was not weak. She would not admit it. Now she begins to understand Cobb. Too late, she begins to understand what she's doing, it's all too late. By now she's hooked. Because she cannot live a moment without him and so she won't.

_If there's a will, then there's a way. _

Wills have to be strong enough to have a way. That's what she learned from that saying. Her will was strong enough to manage to infest her way into Cobb's mind. Strong enough to worm her way into Arthur's heart, even if just for a little while. Because she doesn't hope, she knows that he loves her (well he loved her) to stay with her for that long. But eventually not strong enough to root him down with her and so she allowed his way to become blurry.

He was a wanderer, and such was life. She knows he'll come back some day, but for now, this will have to suffice. Her soul was too weary to search for him and her conscious told her that "if you love something, set it free, if it comes back…" So for now, she has a limited comfort.

Today, she has nothing planned. No architectural work to be done, no friends to visit. Today she will splurge herself on dreaming. And so she does. She goes under. Alone.

In a chapel, she appears. It's a wedding. Someone's holding her hand but she's not the one wearing the white gown. Beside her is Arthur. She remembers this clearly. This was Yusuf's wedding. She looks straight at Arthur again. He's smiling softly and her hand grips the totem in her pocket. It was light. She was dreaming.

His hand was intertwined with hers. She leans her head against his shoulder as she remembered she did only merely 2 years ago. She feels his breaths and his shapely yet comforting muscles. She slides her arms around his torso. He looks down but says nothing. His hands turn to draw circles on her back in a soothing slow motion. She closes her eyes trying to keep the moment still and hold on to him as long as she could.

The wedding ends as Yusuf leans forward to kiss the bride. Arthur retracts from his position to clap his hands. She claps her hands disappointedly as well. She knows what will happen next because she's done this too many times. They go over to congratulate the couple, they get a few drinks and they talk to Eames, Saito and Cobb. Every time, Arthur brushes his hand across her back or tucks her hair away, she sees it coming before it happens. She's had this dream over fifty times but her breath still hitches when he does it. And she's always disappointed when he doesn't do more. The end comes too soon as it usually does. He asks for a dance and he hugs her close to his form.

She tries to soak up his warmth but however times she tries to dream it up, she can't manage to make the feeling right. The way his body and hers fit perfectly together, she just couldn't recreate it in dreams. It was only a distant memory now.

But then she hears it.

"Someday Ari, maybe someday."

She always hears that before she wakes.

* * *

She never got this drunk before Arthur came into her life. It started one week after he left. Her friends bought her a box of beer and a large bottle of strong scotch. She downed half of the box in one day. Then she finished off the scotch the next day. Every time when she finally got drunk, she would always see Arthur. Standing in front of her, scolding her, wiping her face, looking concerned.

And because a drunken mind always spoke a sober heart, she would tell him everything she wanted to say but was afraid to say. She yelled and laughed and smiled and screamed. But no matter how much she did that, he wouldn't be there the next morning as she picks herself off the bathroom floor. And no matter how much she tells herself that she won't do it again just to see his face, she still does. When the PASIV gives her nightmares, she turns to alcohol for comfort.

Today she opens her stash full of cheap wine and crappy beers. She chooses the crappy beer first because the wine would stain her clothes when she passes out. When she is almost halfway drunk, she sees him. He's frowning and fuzzy. She's dizzy but she tries to stand up to reach him. It only results in her falling back onto the ground. He kneels down and strokes her face with his hands and whispers,

"What have you done?"

He begins to fade then she picks up another bottle and gulps it down in steady, deep gulps. She nearly chokes, but she can see him now. She tells him how much she misses him and asks him when he's coming home. She asks how he could do this to her but only to contradict herself when she tells him she understands. Throughout her rant, he doesn't say a thing, but he stares at her with those burning, dark eyes of his. She only managed to say one more thing before she passes out completely.

"Did you love me?"

She thinks she's seeing things when she walks out on the streets. She always looks for suits and gelled hair. Whenever she sees a black suit or a silver brief case, she can't help but hold her breath. Even the way some men stood or walked that was similar to him made her crane her neck to see.

Her hopeful heart was still searching while her tired brain screamed for a rest. She knew that there was something that made him so recognizable yet so easy to miss. It didn't help that he was incredibly handsome and she doesn't think that she deserved him.

Once, when she walked out in Paris, she thought she saw a flash of silver. Just a flash. It was a briefcase. She followed the briefcase and didn't dare to lift her eyes to see who it was, in fearfulness that it wouldn't be him. She swears that the briefcase was a PASIV (even though Arthur would not be that careless) but she can't tell anymore.

She loses sight of the case and walks home disappointed that she didn't lift her eyes to make sure if it were really him.

This happens one too many times, so often in fact, that her friends refuse to walk with her anymore. They tell her that she's not herself anymore and her heart's not there when they're shopping or doing whatever. Where did she go?

She never told them that someone had taken her heart and she'll never be herself because that had been taken away as well. She never told them that she's still waiting for him and she hasn't given up hope yet, because if she did tell them, she would be scolded and called a love-sick girl. She wanted to be strong but he breaks her apart.

Between work and dreaming, she doesn't have much time to take care of herself. She's already lost the weight that she thought was not possible and developed tired eyes. She blamed the PASIV, the dreaming, the work, the loneliness and mostly the empty feeling in her chest. She never knew that she could fall this hard. So hard that she scares herself.

But still she doesn't shed a tear. She doesn't believe in the phrase: what hurts you only makes you stronger. She doesn't believe in it because this **hurt** and this **pain** didn't make her feel stronger. It made her crumble inside and long to see his face. Using whatever method, she just wants to see his face.

So she does.

* * *

She wanders on the shore. She knows she's not alone. She knows that he's behind her. She knows he's coming. Before she can say anything, his arms snake up behind her.

The waves wash over her feet and his. The water is warm and foamy. It smells like the ocean. There's sand. Shells are strewn all over the beach. She can feel his breath by the side of her neck. His head dips into her shoulder. His strong arms enclosed around her waist. She leans back and lolls her head into the crook of his neck.

He's so much larger than her and her so small against him. But like the gentle giant, his cradle is soft and inviting. But when she wants to turn around to embrace him, he's gone, leaving her stumbling and falling into the waves. Warm water rushes over her and carries her out into the great abyss.

* * *

It is Eames who finds her sprawled on the floor amongst the dozens of bottles, her half-awake from the dream. The lead is still embedded in her wrist as she doesn't have enough energy to take it out. The PASIV was lying open beside her.

Eames swore unceremoniously and proceeds to rip the IV from her wrist. She wants to cry out in pain but her head was throbbing and her muscles were useless. He wraps away the line and puts it in the PASIV briefcase before shutting it. He then carries her to her bed and put the covers over her.

She falls asleep again. She doesn't dream without the PASIV now.

She wakes again. Everything from before comes flooding back. She still has a throbbing headache and feelings of nausea but everything's a bit clearer now. She hears noise in the kitchen and wafts of eggs. It had been a while since she ate real food. She doesn't bother climbing out of her bed. Instead, she stares blankly at the wall in front of her.

She doesn't even notice when Eames stands by the door. It is only when he talked that she is snapped from her trance.

"How are you feeling?"

She shrugs.

"I've had better days."

He nodded towards the kitchen.

"I've made some eggs and toast. I have to admit though, I am a terrible cook so the eggs are slightly burnt and the toast is…edible."

His attempt at humor only earned him a sad stare.

"I'm not hungry."

He sighs.

"Fuck Ariadne! For Christ's sake, how long are you going to keep up this charade? It's been two fucking years, and yes he's an ass for leaving you but ever heard of moving on?"

Ariadne lies back in bed and puts the sheets over her shoulders. She speaks in a very small voice.

"Thank you Eames for coming. But I want to be alone now."

He continues to stand there, unmoving.

Her voice breaks.

"_Please._"

He sighs again and runs his hand through his hair. He turns around to walk away, but before he does, he adds.

"Get lots of fluids and eat something. Take care of yourself, Ariadne, please."

Then he leaves.

* * *

She's somewhere up high. It's a tower of some sort. She can feel the wind in her hair and she squints down to see where she was.

She was on the Eiffel Tower. Arthur and she have been here together before. She feels a strong pair of arms grip her shoulders and he could see his face from the reflection of one of observation binoculars. His face had not changed but her face…it had become worn and tired. She could see his eyes flicker to the reflection. He smiled a little warm smile and put his arm across her chest and pulled her closer.

She relishes the warmth but the feeling was still not quite right. She doesn't see the bars holding them back from falling slowly disappear. She does feel the little push Arthur gives her. The go sprawling off of the Eiffel Tower. Falling but still in each other's embrace.

When she wakes up, she's gripping the PASIV instead of him. That almost makes her cry. The point being almost.

* * *

Cobb visited her next. She wasn't as nearly drunk as she was when Eames found her, but she was a little bit tipsy. When she asked why he was here, Cobb frowned.

"The kids wanted to see their grandpa. I thought I'd check up on you."

He glances at the 3 empty bottles on the table and then the half-empty one in her hand.

"I'm doing fine. Why would you all think otherwise?"

She's slurring a bit and she's a terrible liar. They both know it but don't acknowledge it. She stumbles a bit and Cobb holds out his arms to support her. She pushes him away, clumsily. He gave her a look of sadness and guilt.

"How could I have not seen it coming?"

She stares at her bottle.

"No one ever sees these things, Cobb."

They both lapse into silence.

"I talked to Arthur."

She blinks.

"Really."

Cobb shakes his head.

"His head is full of the wrong ideas but the best intentions."

She gives a cruel laugh.

"Aren't we all?"

She takes another swig at her beer.

Cobb opened his mouth to say something then pauses. He then proceeds to say it.

"He misses you."

She snorts.

"Tell him to tell me himself."

* * *

She's walking hand in hand with a child. A boy with his lips and his hair but her eyes and her nose. The boy is holding on to Arthur's hand with his other hand.

They're walking through the streets. They stop by an ice-cream vendor. The boy tugs on her hand and looks up with doe-like eyes. She laughs and gives the boy a nod. She hands him a dollar bill and lets him run to the vendor. She links hands with Arthur as they watch the boy talk avidly with the ice-cream man. He comes back with a chocolate ice-cream cone.

He lifts the ice-cream cone to them as an offer of a lick. They both shake their heads and the boy smiles eagerly. They watch him eat his ice-cream cone happily and humming. He's humming something awfully similar to Edith Piaf. When he's done with the cone, his hands are all sticky and his mouth all covered in chocolate.

She smiles and bends down to wipe his mouth clean. Arthur pats the boy on the head and smiles. He lifts the boy onto his shoulders and holds onto his feet on either side of his shoulders. She puts one hand onto the boy's back to secure him. She slips an arm around Arthur's waist and they resume walking. The boy giggles as he bounces from every step Arthur takes. They all laugh as they cross the street.

They don't see the truck coming.

* * *

Days continue to pass uneventfully. And one day, she manages to get so smashed that she can't even remember who Arthur was. It was a good night, as she danced her sorrows away with her friends. She doesn't notice that Christmas was fast approaching until she got the invitation from Cobb.

It was at his place and he urged her to come. She debated it. She ended up losing and decided that perhaps she should have some fun. She hasn't seen James or Phillipa in two years and in a way, she missed them.

She took a flight from Paris to Los Angeles last minute and took the Economy class. She didn't want to be reminded of past experiences. When she got off the plane, she was greeted with two ecstatic children and a slightly worried Miles. She approached them and accepted both of their jumpy hugs and Mile's fatherly one.

"Hello professor."

He fans it away.

"Just Miles now, my dear Ariadne."

She smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

She then listens to the children talk excitedly about Christmas and Santa Claus. She forces a smile and replies to their questions and stories animatedly.

At Cobb's house, it felt warm and happy. Miles's wife was there and she was a most lovely woman. She welcomed her with kindness and laughter. Cobb was at ease as well. It truly felt like she belonged in a place for once. Eames and Yusuf were there as well.

Eames would cast worried looks at her throughout the entire time. They were all invited to stay at the household until New Years. They all agreed and decided it would be best to stay until all the celebrating was fully over.

The interaction with people helped her, especially the children's lively banter and Eames's colorful remarks. They managed to crack a genuine smile out of her on the 2nd day. But even that was short lived.

She didn't dare bring the PASIV here. This was a touchy topic in this household and she didn't trust herself to not be found. She thought that Cobb had invited her to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't' do anything rash. She was grateful for that but she felt like a child. She was fully mature and she had jurisdiction over what she did and it was nobody's business.

She overheard them talk about her when she pretended to fall asleep on their comfy armchair.

Eames was the first to talk.

"She's looking better Cobb. I'm glad you thought of this."

Miles sighed.

"Poor girl, she's been driving herself crazy because of him."

Miles's wife, Kathleen, asked.

"By him, do you mean Arthur?"

She heard sighing. She could feel the nod.

Cobb spoke softly, trying not to wake the two children in his lap.

"She's been using the PASIV. I don't even know where she got it."

They all lapsed into silence. And she pretended to stir.

* * *

The proceeding morning, she pretended as if nothing happened. She made crafts with the James and Phillipa and went out tobogganing with them. She had a good time until she saw him.

Arthur was standing among the trees and she thought she was dreaming. Her hand instinctively reached for the totem in her pocket. The pawn was heavy. It was real.

The children didn't notice him. She bent down to tell them they were leaving. They looked up disappointedly but she told them that they would be baking cookies. They left in a hurry. Her taking quick steps while gripping both of their hands. They arrived back to the Cobb household and she went to her room to pack her bag. Too late.

The doorbell rang as she was filled with dread. She didn't have to see who it was, from the children's screams of delight and Eames's shout of surprise, there wasn't much left to assume. It was him. She locked herself in the guest room. She opened her suitcase. She had packed several bottles of wine to give to Cobb and Miles. She unscrewed it and drank straight from the bottle. She downed 3 bottles before she felt woozy.

She could hear chattering outside of her room and people yelling her name. His voice yelling her name. She staggered to the door and unlocked it. She swung the door open to reveal Arthur in all his glory. He was in a three-piece grey suit and his hair was slicked back as usual. His expression was pained and guilty. Everyone was standing behind him in anticipation.

She stumbled and fell into his arms. But before she passed out, she felt his strong arm cradle her and his dexterous hands stroke her cheek. He choked out.

"What have I done?"

Black spots appeared in her eyes and she passed out.

* * *

She woke up the next morning in the guest bed. Her head was splitting and everything was really bright. She felt a weight slung across her stomach. It was Arthur. He was spooning her from behind and his face was buried into her shoulder. She turned around, with eyes wide open, making sure that she wasn't dreaming. Her hand reached out and touched his face. Her fingers dancing along his skin. He hadn't shaved in a while and he had black circles under his eyes.

His eyes flickered open at her touch. His deep brown eyes were gentle and sad. He tightened his hold on her while he whispered into her ear over and over again.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

She broke away from his embrace to sit up on the bed. She reached for her totem on the nightstand. It was heavy and she tipped it over three times to make sure. She was definitely in reality.

Her eyes welled with tears. She couldn't stop them even though she was trained. The tears came down of their own accord. And she sniffled. Her voice broke as she asked.

"Why did you come back?"

She could feel his sigh on her neck.

"I missed you."

Her chin wavered as she asked again.

"Why did you go?"

She felt his breath by her shoulder.

"I was scared of this feeling."

She stood up and swung around.

"Do you have any idea what you did to me?"

His eyes gave it away. He did.

"Eames and Cobb told me. I had to come back."

She scoffed.

"I don't need your pity."

He stood up and faced her. He used his hand to tilt her chin up.

"I'm not pitying you. This is me wanting you, needing you. My mistakes have taught me that I need you. I want all of you, everyday, with me. Can you forgive me?"

His thumbs wiped away her tears. She finally broke into a little smile. She gives a little nod.

He wraps her in his arms and gives her a heated embrace. She pulled away a little to meet her lips with his. He kisses her hungrily like a man dying of thirst. He maneuvers one hand into her hair to tilt her head and the other to wrap around her waist. She snakes her arm around his neck. They break away for air. He gently touches his forehead with hers and whispers.

"Merry Christmas, Ariadne."

She smiles.

_If there's a will, there's a way. _

_

* * *

_

A/N: And there you have it. Comments are love!

Please visit the LiveJournal Community for Arthur/Ariadne if you really want to read some awesome fics.

http: / / community. livejournal. com/ arthur_ariadne/ (take out the spaces)


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